It Couldn't Be Anymore Beautiful
by LaniieRyder
Summary: They’re both in denial, refusing to admit their feelings. Even to themselves. A story of smoldering lust, scathing lies and searing love. Angst. Fluff. Slash. What more could you possibly want? Caspian/Peter. Rating will change to 'M' in the future.
1. Poison

**Authors Note:** AAHHH! Yes, it's the dreaded Authors note of doom. ( Insert Darth Vader's theme music here. )

My sincerest apologies, this is going to be quite a long Authors note. You may want to get comfortable.

Okay, this is my first EVER fiction. Ever. I am so nervous. I feel as though I have a stampede in my stomach right now, I so desperately want people to like my story. Did I mention I was nervous? XP

Honestly, I'm not too happy with this chapter. This is basically a review of the fight between Caspian and Peter, but deeper insight into their perspectives and a different ending. I'm so sorry that it's so slow and boring, I'm sort of setting the stage for the actually story, which should hopefully be a lot better than this chapter. So so so sorry! Please be patient with me!

The story will be relatively long, and will consist of all the things we love in a good Casper fic. Angst, Fluff, and Slashy-goodness. I will do my best possible to live up to the expectations within this Fandom. I really hope I don't disappoint anyone. I'm sorry in advance, though. XD

I am totally open to requests, suggestions, input; all of the above.

**Warning: **Yeah, this is Slash. "Gasp!" How vulgar, right? Eh, you'll get over it. You know you like it anyway.

This story will be rated M in the future.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything as I am unfortunately not C.S Lewis. Unless you want me to be… That could be potentially kinky. Anyone up for a round in the wardrobe?

**A HUGE thank you to my wonderful Beta, Rosie ( FastFuriousChick ) who edited this chapter for me. **But then, the file got lost, and I'm too scared to ask her to beta it again. So there may be a few mistakes in here, but thats my fault, not hers. She's amazing.

Please please please **review. **It would mean so much to me… Tell me how you think my first story is starting off. Do you think I should quit while I'm ahead? Do you want my address so you can hunt me down and murder me for writing such a monstrosity? I'll accept criticism, heck, I'll accept blatant insults, ANY FORM of review would be fantastic. Pretty pretty please? So sorry about the Authors note.

Thank you so much for reading!

( Also, I'm Australian, so some words may seem to be spelled wrong, but for me they're normal. So sorry! I hope it doesn't put anyone off )

* * *

The weather was bleak.

Sunlight was scarce and the land felt desolate and deserted, barren of all life. Dismal grey clouds hung in the air, threatening to weep upon those below. And weep they should. It seemed like Narnia itself was reflecting the mood of its inhabitants, mourning the unnecessary loss of soldiers in a futile attempt to overthrow a kingdom made just the night before.

And no one was mourning more than Peter Pevensie. Trudging lethargically up the steps to the Narnian Storm Hold, he desperately struggled to maintain his calm exterior, afraid that the survivors of last nights battle, his siblings and the Prince might glimpse his chaotic inner feud. Emotion made every bone in Peter's body expand, constrict and break. Every organ swelled to bursting point, or deflated and shriveled into sheer nothingness. Or at least, that's what it felt like to him. All he knew was that the frenzied rage, despair and guilt were pounding him into oblivion.

Peter ached.

Little did he know, though, that the Prince to his left felt just as bad. Perhaps worse.

Caspian's head hung limply from his neck, shoulders sagging and feet scraping against stone steps. Distressed and drained, unlike Peter, Caspian had no energy to pretend he was anything other than distraught. No time for appearances or facades. He felt alone and isolated, devoid of anything except the devastation laying waste to his insides. Prince Caspian also shared Peter's heavy unwavering guilt. All those lives sacrificed, and for what?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Both High King and Prince felt miserable.

They continued the climb to their fort, the remains of the Narnian army trailing behind them. They needed to get inside, nurse their wounded, recuperate and prepare. The Telmarines would be coming for them. And soon.

As they reached the entrance of Aslan's How, a perplexed Lucy rushed to greet them. Worry etched her youthful features as she gazed at the tragically pitiful scene before her. Her dear eldest brother looked twice his age, redness rimming his eyes and in possession of a frightfully unnatural pallor. And Susan and Edmund, who were following closely behind, both retained sorrowful, dejected expressions.

… And why had only half the soldiers returned?

Addressing both Prince Caspian and Peter, Lucy asked, her voice laced with concern "What happened?"

Peter's bitterness overtook him. He loathed being slave to these hysterical emotions, this overwhelming guilt. Wasn't he supposed to be the sensible, calm one? He needed someone to blame, someone to saddle these emotions with, so that he might have a reprieve from these frantic feelings.

He just needed to breathe.

Channeling all his anger and hurt into answering Lucy's question, Peter threw a spiteful side glance at Caspian and said "Ask him" with all the malevolence he could muster.

Caspian froze, stunned.

"Me?" He asked in disbelief, life returning to his limbs and outrage coursing through his body. "You could've called it off, there was still time!"

Peter scoffed, persisting to verbally vent his feelings. "No there wasn't, thanks to you. If you'd kept to the plan those soldiers might be alive right now."

"And if you stayed here like I suggested they definitely would be!" Cried Caspian, advancing a few steps towards Peter, towering over the High King.

Peter was not intimidated in the least. Rather, he mirrored the taller boy's actions, moving closer as he retorted heatedly. "You called us, remember?!"

The two men stood there, inches apart, radiating vehement hostility towards the other. The tension so fierce, it bordered on becoming a physical entity. Caspian and Peter exchanged an achingly intense look, staring defiantly at each other, both refusing to be the first to surrender. Eyes the colour of the coldest ice bore into those of the deepest earth as Caspian managed to hiss his reply through clenched teeth,

"…My first mistake."

Peter felt the Princes hot breath dance across his face, invoking his anger further, but arousing the need to turn away. He was starting to become uncomfortable under Caspian's scrutinizing stare.

"No," Peter corrected, starting to depart, ready to abandon the argument "Your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people." He called over his shoulder, still retreating, determined to flee the scene. Why was he so desperate to escape? Hadn't he instigated this fight? He continued walking away.

"HEY!" Bellowed Caspian, fists clenched, eyes ablaze, incensed and insulted. "I am not the one who abandoned Narnia!"

Peter stopped, once more moving to face Caspian.

"You invaded Narnia! You have no more right to be here than Miraz does!" Spat Peter.

Now it was Caspians turn to flee, he couldn't stand to be in Peter's presence an instant longer. He had tolerated his insolence long enough, his temper tested and patience abused. He needed to leave, he had to get away.

Frantic now, Peter was shoved aside haphazardly as Caspian attempted to reach the safe haven of Alsan's How, just as Peter had moments before.

But then the High King roared his next retort, and the Prince almost choked.

"You, Him, _Your Father_… Narnia's better off without the lot of you!"

His father. How could Peter say such a thing? It had been mere hours since Caspian had uncovered the truth about his fathers tragic demise, the truth about Miraz's treachery. …How could he? Caspian's chest constricted and his heart heaved in absolute mortification. Never did he think Peter could be so malicious, so cruel… so poisonous.

Every muscle in his body became tense. Caspian felt fervent anger ignite and boil his blood, felt a storm of hysterical fury brew in the pit of his stomach. He felt rage slither through his veins. Like an insidious serpent.

Like poison.

Taking him over.

Peter himself looked shocked that the words had escaped his own mouth.

The crowd that had accumulated to witness the dispute between royalty saw Caspian reach for his sword, his grip throttling the handle of the blade; knuckles turning white. Power and wrath emanating from his whole being, Caspian remained poised that way for several moments. Unmoving. As if waging an inner war. Still, the mad look in his eye lingered.

Peter shuddered, the Prince's stillness unnerved him. Even frightened him somewhat.

Just as Peter prepared for the inevitable blow to be dealt, raising his fists in defense, Caspian exhaled, his hand going lax and slipping of the swords clutch.

Caspian walked away from the whole dramatic episode, into Aslan's storm hold and as far away from High King Peter the Magnificent as he could possibly get.

* * *

Terrible, right? You have my biggest fattest apology. And my promise to do better in the next chapter, which should be up soon. I am so sorry. Please review! I would appreciate it immeasurably. If I've made mistakes anywhere, which I'm sure I have, please point them out to me. And I would love some constructive criticism.

Thanks so much!


	2. Not Again

**Authors Note:** I have newly formed respect for every single author out there, How do you guys do it? You're all so amazing!

Alrighty then, again, I offer my sincerest apologies. I went waaaaayyy overboard with the descriptive detail in the first few paragraphs of this one. I tried to read it back to myself and I was just like "…Whaaa? What does that even mean?" But then the later paragraphs progress to quickly and don't really flow. Ugh. Honestly, How do you guys do it?

After simplifying it majorly it's still rather confusing. But honestly, I can't be bothered rewriting it. I am so so so sorry. Hopefully I'll conjure up the effort to fix it, if you guys really find it a problem.

Again, I am so very sorry. But please endure it for my sake, I spent so long on this chapter, on the whole I'm not very happy with it, but I must say, I am quite proud of the argument between Peter and Caspian. Please review, I would love you muchly for it. Thanks hugely!

**Once more, Rosie is a goddess! Many endless thanks for Betaing my story!**

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would like to own Ben Barnes and William Moseley, I don't and never will. Yes, I know, the world is such an unfair place.

* * *

Four days had passed since the catastrophic failure to conquer a castle and dethrone Miraz, four days since the ardent collision between Prince and King. Aslan's How seemed burdened by immense strain, the whole of the Narnian army subject to the crippling tension permeated by Peter and Caspian, who both obstinately refused to make amends with each other.

In point of fact, both men fell into a stubborn state of adamant avoidance. Evading each other in hallways, shunning each other at meal times; High King and Telmarine Prince determined to blatantly ignore the other indefinitely.

However, Caspian secretly felt the faintest pang of emptiness, the prolonged deprivation of Peter's invigorating presence an unusual sensation to the Prince.

…_Prolonged?_ It had been a mere four days.

Still, he retained his poignant hostility for the High King, his offenses still fresh in Caspian's mind.

And what Peter would never admit is that guilt was starting to plague his being. He was truly contrite; genuinely remorseful for his actions but unable to confess as much. So instead he continued to uphold his indifferent veneer; whilst enduring nights of fitful sleep and suffering sporadic bouts of anguish, as the rest of the Pevensie children were forced to play spectator to Peter's inner turmoil.

On the eve of the fifth day, Edmund finally approached Peter, weary of his immaturity and this incessant avoidance routine. It had to end some time.

Edmund found Peter lying amidst the tall grass in the outskirts of Aslan's How; leisurely gazing at the dusky sky and watching the sun recede into the lush hills of Narnia. As Edmund stood over his elder brother, he mused that another might presume Peter to be in a content, tranquil mood. But Edmund knew better. Peter's facial expression and voluntary self isolation (and the fact that he had barely acknowledged his sibling's presence) betrayed his distress.

Not one to hesitate, the younger Pevensie sat down next to his brother, sighed, and proceeded to breach the subject of Prince Caspian.

"Just apologise to him, Pete."

Peter, annoyed that his solitude had been disrupted, rolled his eyes and retorted.

"What for? He started it."

"Um, actually Peter, I think you'll find that you were the instigator in this situation."

After a moment of unresponsive silence, Edmund persisted "C'mon Pete, there's a war going on, your soldiers need you."

"But why should I have to apologise first?" Whined Peter, sounding not unlike a spoilt child.

"Didn't we just cover the part about you instigating this whole thing?" Asked Edmund, smile stretching his face and voice threaded with a teasing tone.

Peter sat up and returned the grin, before reverting to his somber demeanor, face falling in submission. It wasn't fair for him to drag his family and friends through his own personal issues. And he had indeed put this off long enough.

"I suppose I do need to apologise, if only for the sake of everyone else."

And then, in resolute determination, he added "Alright! I'll do it… but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Peter replaced his taut frown with a smile once more and Edmund chuckled approvingly, slapping Peter on the back in a brotherly display of affection. And with that, Peter bounded from his sitting place, embarking on a stalwart and steadfast march into the keep of Aslan's How, on a quest for Prince Caspian.

With purposeful strides the High King advanced towards the storm hold, each step more buoyant than the last, becoming elated at the prospect of seeing Caspian. An admission Peter would never declare aloud.

He ambled through the dim light inside the stone complex, torches doing little to ward off the ever oppressing dark as he inspected cave after cave. Anxiety fused with conviction urging him forward. It was only a matter of minutes.

At last, the paths of King and Prince entwined once more as Peter stumbled into a large hollow to discover Caspian austerely pacing, his current apprehension accentuated by his rigid frame and pensive face.

Caspian, aware that he was no longer alone, lifted his head and regarded Peter with a look of utter contempt, clearly annoyed at the intrusion.

"What do you want?" He asked rather bluntly.

The Prince's shortness pained Peter, and he buckled beneath the flittering nerves arising in his chest. He sighed, obviously no longer in possession of the confidence he held just moments prior.

Hands fidgeting and fumbling slightly, Peter vocalized his motive for seeking Caspian out.

"I, uh, wanted to apologise for my behavior the other day. I just wanted to… I th-thought that… Well what I mean is-" Peter sighed again. When had he become a blundering fool? A rather illiterate blundering fool at that. "-I'm sorry, Caspian."

The blonde exhaled heavily, his apology sincere and true.

Caspian simply stared, expression blank. His rich chocolate eyes conveyed a nothingness that perturbed Peter as the High King waited expectantly for a reply. Yet none came, the Prince merely stood; feet planted and legs rooted to the soil standing beneath him. Still Peter waited, enduring the insufferable silence till he could no more, shattering the quiet with a simple question;

"Well?"

"…Well?" Mimicked Caspian, not quite comprehending. "Oh, expecting a reply, were you?"

Caspian paused, the festering animosity that he had held for Peter the few days past came seeping out, like a vile concoction of abhorrence and hate, laced with something else... Something unnamable, something the Prince dared not think about. "Your siblings couldn't alleviate your guilt, and now I'm you last resort. Apologising in hopes of soothing your conscience? Very noble indeed."

The High King was flabbergasted. Along side his now inflamed resentment towards Caspian, Peter felt humiliated upon the rejection of his apology; a feeling which only served to fuel his anger.

"_Excuse me_? Unlike yourself, I was able to disregard pride and apologise for my actions!" He exclaimed lividly.

"Shall I profess my eternal undying gratitude now, or would you prefer I wait?"

"I would _prefer_ that one of Miraz's attempts on your life be successful, but then, we can't always get what we want!" Barked Peter in quick retaliation.

Caspian looked as though he had been struck across the face. Peters eyes widened with the realization of what he said. He tried to stammer out a rushed apology, but it fell on deaf ears, Caspian had already stormed out of the cave.

Peter groaned internally. _Not again._

* * *

I am so sorry to leave it like that again! I hope the repetitive-ness isn't too annoying. Sorry! But I must say, I'm really excited about the next chapter. "Forbidden Colours." It's half written already, and should be up soon, AND we finally get some fluff!

**Please review!** Pleeeaaaase? You know you want too. XD Thanks so much!


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